


snowed in

by rosyjeongin



Series: dreaming of a white christmas | nct dream [6]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Kind of...
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-15
Updated: 2020-02-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:14:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22733140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosyjeongin/pseuds/rosyjeongin
Summary: chenle might be the best— no, worst person to be stuck somewhere with.
Relationships: Zhong Chen Le/Reader
Series: dreaming of a white christmas | nct dream [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1591993
Kudos: 26





	snowed in

You groan unhappily when the bell rings for dismissal. It’s not how one would usually react at the end of the school day, but, today, you were an exception. From next to you, your friend rises from her seat, gathering her things, as you slump down in your chair.

“Oh, cheer up, y/n!” she says, patting your head encouragingly. “I’m sure it won’t take that long!”

“Maybe, maybe not,” you reply, sitting up in your seat. You look at your friend woefully. “But I was planning on going to the internet cafe today! And after that, I was going to go home, and just watch movies for the rest of the day! But, nooooo,” you groan, dragging out the last word accusingly, “I just had to get in trouble on a Friday!”

“And worst of all,” you continue, a more venomous tone in your voice. Most of the students had filed out by now, eager to leave and go hang out with their friends. Except for one boy, who was still in his seat, grumbling to himself as he rapidly fiddled his thumbs on a game on his phone. You narrow your eyes at the back of his head, hoping that he could feel the daggers from your glare. “I have to be stuck with Zhong Chenle.”

He doesn’t hear this, of course, because of the earbuds in his ears, so he continues making remarks about the game on his phone. Your friend clicks her tongue disapprovingly and shakes her head. “y/n, he’s not that bad.”

“Sure he is!” you retort. “He’s the reason I have to be here in the first place!” You say this loudly, but Chenle is still clueless. He yells at something in his game.

“You do realize that you were the first one to throw the dodgeball at his face, right?” Your cross your arms, indignant, muttering about how he was the one who did it back. Your friend laughs as she slings her bag across her shoulder. “Whatever, y/n. I’m gonna get going now.”

You whine, clinging to her wrist as she attempts to leave. “Noooo, wait, don’t leave me here.” She looks at you with her eyebrows raised. “Why don’t you help me? All Chenle’s gonna do is sit around and make me do all the work.”

She pries your fingers from her wrists and pats your hand tenderly. “Sorry, no can do.” Then she tilts her chin up proudly. “I have a date.” You gasp in betrayal.

Your friend leaves you sitting by yourself as you grumpily slump back down in your chair. Just as she exits the door, she points to Chenle, who is still bowed over his phone, and mouths something to you that you don’t quite catch. You frown at her, throwing your hands up to express your confusion, and she mouths more exaggeratedly, “He’s kinda cute though.” You put on an appalled expression and make a gagging face just as she leaves, giggling.

Chenle’s presence is more obvious when it’s just you two left in the room, but he still pays no attention to anything else. From your spot, you make strangling motions at him that he can’t see. He’s doing nothing to you right now, but he’s still so, so aggravating. 

You don’t know when this thing you have going for Zhong Chenle began, but it’s clear that it’s there now. 

You wonder if it’s because, alongside you, Chenle might be one of the best students in the school. You wonder if it’s because he’s always laughing, all the time, with anybody at all, and with that shrieking dolphin laugh, too. You wonder if it’s because he’s so friendly with everybody, that maybe you thought that he deserved to have at least one person dislike him. You wonder if it’s because Zhong Chenle might, arguably, be one of the most perfect people that you have ever met, that there’s not one thing you could find to dislike about him, so you just decide to dislike him as a whole.

It’s not like it isn’t mutual, either. He threw those dodgeballs right back at your face. He throws you those smug expressions when he not-so-subtly shows you his test scores. Sometimes, you wonder if it isn’t, like those times when he happily greets you when he passes by in the hallways, leaving you to look back at him, shocked, as he prances. But you’ve come to account that to the chipper mood that he’s always in

Either way, it led you to where you are now, silently fuming over the fact that you have to stay after school to clean up the classroom just because you and Chenle got into a sort-of violent dodgeball fight during physical education today. It’s not your fault that Chenle kept aiming for you, so you decided to aim for his face in return, initiating a much more brutal and personal dodgeball match than the fun game that the teacher had originally intended.

After cursing Chenle for a few more moments under your breath, you get up dramatically with a humph and make your way over to him, because he was still busy playing the game. You stand behind him and tap the top of his head with your knuckle.

“Hey, are you almost done?” you say loudly, making sure he heard you over his earbuds. He doesn’t answer for a few moments, and you watch as his screen turns red and the respawn countdown appears. He drops his phone onto the desk and he groans into his hands, throwing his head back. When he sits up again to look at you, he takes out one of his earbuds and replies, “Yeah, I’ll be done in a sec.” As soon as the countdown is up, his focus is immediately back onto the game. You notice that the match is not over for another six minutes, and you roll your eyes.

You’d rather not watch Chenle play a video game for another six or something minutes, so you decide you should probably get some work done yourself. You grab the keys to the janitor’s closet from where the teacher left them on the desk and leave the room without saying a word to Chenle. Outside, it’s cold and windy, and there’s a bit of snow falling from the sky. You shiver, clutching your arms to your chest. The janitor’s closet is just down the hallway, but the cold is biting and goosebumps have risen all over your arms and legs, so you walk faster. The weather doesn’t look too good, and you’re wondering if there’ll be a storm later. You forgot to check the forecast this morning.

You struggle to unlock the door for a few seconds because your hands are cold and stiff, but when you do, you try to get all the stuff together as quickly as possible. You’re hauling all the supplies back to the classroom, which now seems a bit farther now that you’ve got a bunch of stuff in your arms. 

You’re starting to regret not waiting for Chenle, when suddenly a towel slips from your arms, and everything else goes down with it. You crouch down, grumbling, trying to recollect the things. The wind has picked up now, thrashing your hair all around you messily. You hear footsteps approaching and look up to see Chenle jogging towards you.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were going outside to get the stuff?” he says, almost with a scolding tone, as he crouches down to help you. You try to wave him off, telling him that you could do it, but he gathers most of the stuff in his arms anyways.

“You were too busy playing your game.” 

He stands up, brooms in one arm and a bucket with the rest of the supplies in the other. He leaves you empty-handed, to your protest.

“You could’ve told me.” Chenle makes his way back to the classroom and you follow behind him, exhaling impatiently. He glances back at you for a moment, and he must’ve noticed your arms crossed against your chest and your chattering teeth, because he adds after a moment, “Are you cold?”

You shake your head and mutter, “No, I’m fine.” He abruptly stops and gently places the items in his arms down. You look at him, frowning, eyebrows drawn together. When he starts to shove off his school jacket, you frantically wave your hands at him to stop.

“Wait, n-no!” He stops and looks up at you. “It’s fine… you don’t have to do that. It’s warm inside the classroom, anyway.” He shrugs and picks the stuff up again, continuing the way to the classroom. As you follow him, you stare at the back of his head incredulously. For some reason, that interaction leaves you flustered and red-eared, but you brush it off as simple surprise at his offer.

When you reach the room, you open the door for Chenle. The inside is indeed much warmer than the outside, and you sigh a breath of relief. Chenle plops down the supplies on the nearest desk before turning to you and handing you a broom. You take it from him, but then you notice that his hair is sprinkled with snow, like glittery sugar. You almost laugh at the sight of it.

“You have, um—” You motion towards his hair, but he only looks back at you quizzically. You hesitate for a moment before gingerly reaching up to ruffle his hair, causing specks of snow to fall slowly from his head.

“You had dandruff,” you say, and his eyes widen in embarrassment. You snicker and delight in the blush that creeps onto his face before adding, “Just kidding. It was snow.”

“Oh,” is all he says, but the blush on his face doesn’t disappear, even after you’ve turned away to start sweeping the back of the classroom. Chenle swallows, blinking away his trance, then drifts over to his phone lying on the desk. When a song you don’t recognize starts to play loudly from his phone, echoing softly throughout the room, you turn your head to look at him, skeptical. He only beams back at you before he starts sweeping towards the front of the classroom, humming quietly to the song.

Chenle gets tired quickly, however, whining about how his back hurt from the dodgeball game. You glare at him and shoot back that you’d only aimed for his face, so why would his back hurt? Eventually, after Chenle’s pleading, you decide to save the sweeping for last, so that his “wounded spine” could take a rest, and move on to less grueling chores. Not that sweeping was much work anyways. Less grueling for Chenle.

You and Chenle split up the chores. You take on cleaning the window and the chalkboard while Chenle proceeds to wipe down all the desks. Reassuringly, there’s not much for you two to do. You’re determined to finish quickly so you can go home or to the internet cafe as you’d planned.

As you’re wiping the window down, you notice how bad the weather has turned outside. “Woah,” you remark, pausing to look at the swirling snow outside. Earlier, the snow had been gentle, only drifting to follow the gusts of wind. Now, the winds seemed to be stronger, rattling the branches of bare trees outside. The snow is shooting through the air to follow those winds, and the world outside the classroom seemed to be blurred, like a smudged pencil drawing. “There’s a storm out there.”

Chenle looks up from the desk he’s wiping down. He walks over, standing next to you, resembling the way you stare out the window, mouth agape. “Whew. How long do you think we’ll be here?”

You frown at the thought of being stranded here. And with Chenle of all people. “Not too long, I hope.”

“Guess you’re stuck with me for the time being,” he hums, smirking at you merrily. You roll your eyes and wave him off back to his job before your return to wiping down the windows.

When you finish the windows and the chalkboard, Chenle has finished cleaning the last desk, so you each take a broom again and start at opposite ends of the classroom.

“Your back’s okay now?”

“Yup,” Chenle says proudly. He starts stretching frantically as if to prove his point and you snicker.

Though you’d hate to admit it, your friend was right; having to clean the classroom wasn’t as bad as you expected it to be. In fact, you rather enjoy it. It smells fresh and light in the room, most likely because Chenle had sprayed air freshener a few minutes before. The swirling snow outside adds a bit of comfort to the ambiance, making the classroom seem as if it was safe and cozy. It’s quiet besides the brushing of brooms across the sleek ceramic floors and the pulsing of Chenle’s music in the classroom. Every now and then, Chenle would start singing along softly to the song, and you’d observe him quietly. When he’d catch you looking at him, he’d immediately burst into louder singing and start dancing, inciting stifled giggles from you.

When you set your broom aside and return to the front of the classroom, Chenle approaches you, still mouthing the words to the song dramatically. The broom is in his hand like a microphone and he takes small steps towards you like he’s dancing. You pause and stare at him amusedly. When he’s a few feet away from you, he stops and holds an arm out towards you, coaxing you to take his hand. Timidly, you place your hand in his and his smile brightens.

With one hand in yours, and the other letting the broom clatter to the ground, he proceeds to lead you to dance across the classroom. It’s not really dancing, more like you two doubling over in laughter as you weave in between desks and try not to stumble over chair legs and each others’ feet. Chenle even twirls you around when he has space as if it was part of a choreographed routine all along.

By the time song finishes, and Chenle ends with a flourish and an unnecessary high note, you two are breathless from laughter and dancing. You have to grip onto Chenle’s hands as you continue to giggle breathlessly. When the laughing fit dies down, and both of you have tears in your eyes, Chenle is still holding your hands in his.

It’s a while before either of you notice, but when you do, both of you dart your hands away, blushing furiously. Chenle picks at his nails and glances to the side. He clears his throat, and after a few moments of awkward silence, he says, “You’re a great dancer, you know that?” His eyes return to your face, and he grins teasingly. “My favorite move was when you stepped on my feet a thousand times.”

You gasp in mock indignation and poke at his tummy. He recoils, snickering. “Oh yeah?” you retort, narrowing your eyes at him. “I think you’re amazing at singing! That crack during your high note was perfect!” You press your fingers to your lips like a chef’s kiss and Chenle bursts into high-pitched laughter.

You and Chenle banter like that for a while, before comfortably falling into casual conversation. Slowly, as you two wait out that storm together in that small classroom, you start to notice that the prejudice you had built about Chenle had slowly started to disappear.

The conversation morphs into a heated debate about ice cream flavors.

“Cookies and cream is the best! Try and tell me otherwise,” Chenle declares, waving his hands pointedly.

“Yeah, I will, because, clearly, it’s cookie dough!”

“Cookie dough is good,” he admits, nodding civilly. “But cookies and cream is so much better!”

You shake your head and click your tongue disapprovingly as you sling your bag across your shoulders. Chenle looks at you, a bit confused, and pouts.

“Wait, where are you going?”

“Uh, home?” You furrow your eyebrows and smile. “We’re done, right? We just need to get these supplies back.”

“But… the storm?” His attention turns to the window. Outside, it’s still snowing, but it’s much less aggressive than it was earlier. Instead, the snow falls slowly from the sky, almost undetectable. Chenle hadn’t realized the storm had died down in the midst of talking with you. His heart sinks. He had hoped he got to spend more time with you. “Oh. Nevermind.”

“Come on,” you say, taking the bucket from the desk. “Let’s return these so we can head home.” In a smaller voice, you add, “I can walk with you. If you want…”

“Actually,” Chenle begins timidly, looking down at his hands. “I was thinking if we could maybe go to the internet cafe?” You look at him, a bit surprised. Chenle plays with his fingers, anticipating your answer.

After a moment, you reply happily, “I would love that!” Chenle perks up. 

“Really?”

“Of course.” You laugh softly at his eagerness. “And maybe we could get ice cream later? So I can show you how absolutely superior cookie dough is.”

Chenle grins slyly. “I’ll take that as a challenge.”

The walk to the internet cafe isn’t long, but it’s still freezing outside. Once again, Chenle offers you his jacket, albeit more sheepishly. When you take up his offer this time, he smiles brightly and you find yourself adoring the way his eyes sparkle. And maybe your friend was right about that, too.

Zhong Chenle _is_ kinda cute.


End file.
